Anniversaries
by T.K. Yuy
Summary: Wedding bells ring, and Draco remembers all the key events of that day... over the course of twelve years. The groom doesn't even realize the significance of the day... He remember this day for the rest of his life.


Anniversaries

by T.K. Yuy (Teek)

Gods, look at you.  All decked out in your perfect tuxedo-which my tailor constructed, thank you very much- and your hair tamed.  Those hideous glasses don't obstruct your eyes any more, so they're bright and happy and I can see straight into your soul if I try.  But I won't try.  I don't need to see that.  It was a year ago today that I told you to get contacts.  You probably don't remember that.  You were in the middle of planning a wedding after all.  But then again, I remember all the little things, as well as the big.  At least where you're concerned I do.

Like how twelve years ago, today, I saw you on the Express, and you denied me.  Or how eight years ago you and I buried our differences and moved past our petty rivalry to work together against Voldemort.  And how about four years ago, when we both went into hiding because every Death Eater in all of Britain was after us?  It was four years ago exactly that we first fucked, and two years ago that you started seeing her.  Six months after that –it was the first of March- you decided to actually tell me.  Not that I didn't already know, of course.  You'd said her name on more than one occasion, so it was kind of obvious.

It was a little over a year ago –a year and a week almost exactly- that we had your bachelor party.  That was the day – night, excuse me- that I told you I was in love with you.  But you were too shitfaced to remember anything the next morning.

Perhaps it was for the best.

Oh, here she comes.  I'll admit, she is good looking, for a woman.  Perfect hair, gorgeous smile, sparkling eyes.  From what you've told me, she's got an awesome body.  I wouldn't know, I have no experience with women, but if she feels anything like you do to me, then I guess she does.  You're the epitome of perfection, not that you ever believed me when I told you that.

You're exchanging rings, and vows, and Gods, I must look a mess.  Lucky for me, sitting in the last pew so no one can see the tears I promised I wouldn't cry.  Pitiful.  The last Malfoy scion, reduced to tears by the Boy-Who-Fucking-Lived's wedding.  Hmph.  Lucius always said you would be my undoing, and I guess he was right.  Ironic how that man –a man I refused to call my father- could be so right about my life when he hardly knew me for me.

And it's done.  The ceremony is over and you and your bride are walking down the aisle.  Towards me.  You won't see me like this, I can't allow it.  I wipe the tears from my cheeks and eyes and pull the mask back on, eyes cold, face hard.  Your emeralds meet my storms, and I know you see right through me.  You always have.

I watch you get into your limo, headed for the reception hall, and as I turn to leave, feel a hand on my shoulder.  He reads me almost as well as you do, and he's never known me intimately.

"Don't do anything stupid, Malfoy." he says.

"Of course not, Black.  Just be sure to save me a bottle of whiskey."

"That's not going to help you."

"It will for tonight.  I'll see you at the reception."

You're godfather knows I'm dying inside.  Dying, period.  He heard me the night I told you.  That's why he helped you the morning after.  He knew I couldn't risk saying it gain.  Too much was at stake then, just as it is now.

Our friendship, your relationship with your new wife.  I wasn't going to screw that up.

But now the hours have passed, and I'm watching you twirl your wife around the dance floor, and I can't help but remember that rainy day when I taught you how to dance.  The same dance you're dancing now.  To the same song.  Two more nails in my coffin.  I take another swig from the bottle in my hand.

"I'd put that away if I were you."

"Piss off." I take another swig.

"Do you really want to be drunk off your ass _here,_ Malfoy?  You're likely to let something slip, and all these people… only a select few know about you and-"  
"Fine, take it.  I don't want to ruin his wedding day.  Gods forbid I risk the wrath of Mrs. Potter so soon."

He looks away at my spat.  He knows I'd rather be anywhere but here.  And fuck.  You're coming over.  What do I say?  What do I do?  It's late –or early, depending on how you want to look at it- and many of the guests are readying themselves to leave.  fuckfuckFUCK!

"Draco!  So this is where you've been hiding!" I hate what that smile does to me.  "Gin wanted a dance with you."

"Sorry, Potter, but I'm not interested in dancing with your wife.  She does nothing for me."  
"Very funny, Draco.  I didn't see you dance at all to-"

"Don't you remember, Harry,"  Great it's that Lavender bitch.  And she's drunk. Fabulous.  "Draco's gay.  He doesn't do anything female."

"Thank you, Ms. Brown, for that lovely recap." I snort, thanking Sirius with a look for ushering her away.

"Come on, let's go find-" I pull out of your grasp and to say you're confused would be an understatement." Drake?"  
"I'm sorry, Harry, but I've got to go."

"Go?  But we were just going to head to the bar.  You me, Ron, 'Mione and Gin.  We-"

"I can't, I'm sorry."

I just about get away, when you grab my arm.  Please, don't do this Harry.  I can't handle this.

"Draco," damn your eyes, "What's wrong?  What'd I say?"  
"Nothing, I just- I can't."

A quick, scared kiss to your lips, and you see me totally unguarded.

"Congratulations, Harry." I say, cupping your cheek with a shaking hand, "Good-bye."

"G-good-bye?  Draco, please, talk to me."

You're gripping my wrist now, and I'm about ready to break.  I can't stay here much longer, or I'll regret it for the rest of my life.  Not that it's very long.  I haven't got much longer anyway.

"Let me go."  
"Drake, you're starting to scare me.  What's going on, where're you going?"  
"Away.  Please, just let me go."

I wrench myself away from you, and I'm not so sure any of this was a good idea.

"If I didn't know any better, Draco, I'd say this upsets you." You motion to all of the reception, and your gaze settles on your lovely wife for a brief second.  Gods, you have no idea how right you are.  "You're uncomfortable with all this."

"Of course I am!" my voice –despite being no more than a whisper- was thick with emotions but cold as ice.  I wasn't taking any chances.  "What did you expect, for me to move on with my life and wish you and your new wife a happy-ever-after?  It's not that simple, Harry.  It hasn't been that simple in six years, maybe longer.  And it sure as hell hasn't been easy these past two years.  Then again, that's my own fault.  I was the stupid one and got myself into this mess."

Great, I'm babbling now.

"W-what about six years?  Draco, we weren't-"  
"I-I can't.  I just can't!  I'm so sorry, Harry."

And despite my better judgment, I apparate to our spot.  The place we used to come to think, way back when the world got to be too much for us.  No one understood how we could've become friends, and this was where we vented.  We'd fucked here too.  Not that it matters.  None of it matters any more.  Fucking Muggles.  It's there- no; I'm not here to think about that.  Hell no.  It was here that I realized I was in love with you.  It was here that I promised myself that I would never love anyone like I love you.  And it was here that I was planning to make another anniversary.  Today, of all days, I was going to do it.  Hmph.  Just like a Malfoy to make pain from someone's happiness.  Then again, I am my father's son.

The vial's cold, but its contents burn on the way down.  I've only got a few minutes before my heart stops.  Hopefully it's enough time to explain.  Hopefully it's enough time to confess everything I was too afraid to tell you, and to make you see the things you never seemed to see.

_12- we started out as enemies_

_8- despite people saying it was a bad idea, we became friends.  The best of._

_6- I admitted to myself that I'm in love with you._

_4- we went into hiding and became fuck-buddies.  Being that we lived together, it was a logical way to ease sexual frustration._

_3- you defeated Voldemort, and I admitted to myself that I'm weak.  So weak._

_2- you started seeing Ginny.  I was happy for you, it just hurt, and I tried to find 'peace' elsewhere that night.  It fucked me up, royally.  
I- told you to get contacts.  The day after your bachelor party, remember?  Gods, you were so hung over.  We ended that day, not that we had ever really been anything worth classifying._

_Each number is a year.  A year starting and ending on the first of September.  I don't have another year, Harry.  The disease will end me before that.  Or rather, I'll end me and the disease before that.  AIDS is one of the few Muggle diseases we Wizards haven't found a cure for, despite everyone's best attempts.  Dr. Merrik can give you my charts.   That is, if you want them…  If Voldemort hadn't done it, it would've killed Severus too.  He'd've been dead already, actually, it was too advanced.  _

_Do you remember what else today is, Harry?  No, you probably don't.  I didn't acknowledge it often enough for you to really take note of it.  Ironic that it should start and end today, of all days._

_Congratulations on your wedding, Harry, and don't ever forget that seeing you as happy as you were today is the greatest present -birthday or anniversary, it doesn't matter–(aside from hearing you say you're in love with me) I could've ever asked for.  _

_There.  I did it.  It's done.  I love you.  Happy anniversary.  I'm sorry.  _

Isn't this the cowards way out of it?  I guess that makes me a coward then.  I'm afraid of it all.  

Death.  Life.  Love.  Hate.  Happiness.  Pain.  Change.  

I've felt it all, and it scares me.  Or did.  I can't feel anything anymore.  Which is good.  And you know, this is wonderful.  Perfect ending to the day.  Your wide emeralds watching as I drop the letter and quill, the bottle of Slytherin Green ink falling to the stone floor of our cave as my magic finally dies.  My body follows it, and I think I'm dead now.  Oh, wait, no, I still have a minute, my eyes haven't gone yet.

"Draco!  Merlin, what have you done?!"

"I'm sorry."  Damn, is that my voice?  I can't even recognize myself.  

"Why, Draco?"

"You. The AIDS.  So sorry, Harry."  
"AIDS?  Draco, what're you talking about?  Wait, don't talk, let me get you to a hospital."  
"No.  Too late.  It's over."  
"No!  Draco, please, you can't!"  
"Tell Sirius the whiskey did work."  
"Whiskey?"  
"Courage.  To actually do it."

Now it's time.  He's fuzzy, and I know my eyes are glassing over.  

"I'm so, so sorry."

"Draco, please!  There's got to be an antidote!  What did you use?!"

"Didn't make it.  Too tempting."

"You idiot!"

"I know.  Harry?"  
  


You can't speak; you're too choked up, I think, to even think straight.

"I love you, Harry.  Love… y……."

And it's over.  Happy annivers…

fin

Yes, it's over.  Yes, it's weird.  It was written pretty much at one this morning, and I only just fixed it up a bit.  Too clichéd for my liking, but oh well, it did it's job.  And from what I understand, the body stops before the mind stops completely, hence the ending.


End file.
